


Gary Busey’s Hard To Book For Funerals

by psykidsam (Weirwolf)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dead Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Post-Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weirwolf/pseuds/psykidsam
Summary: The last time Dean really thought he was going to die he asked for a huge funeral. I think he deserves to get one.
Relationships: Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Gary Busey’s Hard To Book For Funerals

_And for my ashes, I like it here. Yeah. You know, as far as eternal resting places go._

It’s almost two weeks before Sam tells anyone that Dean’s gone. After the werewolf hunt in Austin he spends three days driving, no destination in mind, he just needs time to think, to overcome the insurmountable grief, the screaming he can feel coming from his mind, his soul, whatever. Whenever he feels exhaustion pulling at him, narrowing the edges of his vision and threatening to make his last words to his brother a lie, he pulls over and sleeps in the impala, the prospect of a single motel room impossible to consider. Some nights, as the lights of the highway fly past, he curses Dean out for leaving him here, making him promise to keep living even though that’s impossible to do without his brother by his side.

Eventually though, as he finds himself in Nebraska, speeding past cornfields with the ghost of the roadhouse in the corner of his vision, he realizes their friends deserve to know. He feels like shit, Dean meant something to them too, wasn’t just his, even if it felt like it. Jodys place isn’t too far and he thinks she deserves to hear it in person. He also thinks maybe he doesn’t want to be so alone anymore. The echos of the names etched into the table in the bunkers library are taunting him, reminding him how he’s the last of his little family, but that’s not true, or at least it doesn’t have to be.

Jody opens her door almost immediately after he knocks, her face gleaming. He and Dean hadn’t been great about keeping in touch after they had confirmed everyone was safe after what Chuck did, too drunk on their own newfound freedom, but Jody had been persistent and they had promised to stop by next time they passed through. Sam can tell she’s recalling this promise as she greets him, but the joy on her face crumples to confusion when she sees him, face pale and drawn, eyes rimmed red. Alone. They stand there for a beat, neither wanting to confirm what they both already know, and Sam realizes that this is why he couldn’t do it until sooner, he couldn’t make it real. Finally, he gathers the courage to speak, his voice hoarse from disuse.

_”He’s gone”_

With that Sam collapses on her front porch, the tidal wave he’d been keeping bay swallowing him whole, drowning him. Jody has a moment of horrified shock, the impossibility of Dean’s leaving short circuiting her mind, before she gathers Sam up and brings him inside to sit on her couch. He’s still sobbing, he feels scraped raw and laid bare, rarely if ever have Winchesters shown others this kind of weakness, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop it, and so he cries on Jodys couch until he falls asleep with her soothing hand on his back leading him into peaceful darkness.

When he wakes up, he’s covered in a blanket and a cup of tea sits innocuously on the coffee table. The grey light of mid morning having faded into a pale twilight. He stands and stretches, working kinks that he didn’t even know were there out of his back, a consequence of far too many days spent cramped in the car. Motivated by vague hunger he wanders into the kitchen where he finds Jody sitting at the table, looking at old pictures of Dean. She motions for him to sit, and he drops down across from her.

”Sam, I know nothing I can say will... what can I... can I do anything, anything for you” Jodys voice is awkward and unsure, so unlike the confident woman Sam has come to know over what is now over a decade. 

“Thanks Jody it’s, it’s ok really, I-” he begins, trying to collect his thoughts, understand why he needed to come here. After a few minutes, he realizes.

Sams mind flashes back to the last real time he thought he had lost his brother, standing in a cemetery with soft petals falling like snowflakes. Remembers Dean, ever joking, trying to comfort his little brother even as he braved himself to face a cosmic being in a suicide mission. Remembers 

_“I want a big funeral. All right? I’m talking epic.”_

and Sam realizes what he needs to do.

“Jody can you help me plan his funeral?”

Dean deserves to be celebrated. Deserves to be remembered. It’s the least Sam can do, really, and in some small way he thinks it could help him too, right now the burden of his brothers memory falls only on his shoulders and it threatens to crush him at any moment, he needs to share it.

Jody takes care of all the notifications. Sam feels guilty, and maybe a little stupid, but he still can’t bring himself to say it out loud. Sam returns to the impala and collects Dean’s ashes. He had scooped them up after he burned him, Sam hadn’t known why at the time but now he realizes it was for this. As the days go by people begin to trickle in to town. Donna and Garth envelop him in separate hugs, eyes wet. Charlie and Stevie bring homemade quiche. Bobby, and he still has to remind himself it’s not _his_ Bobby, places a gruff hand on his shoulder and says

“He was a great man, one of the best, a hero” and even though Sam knows this man isn’t the surrogate father he grew up with he still has to excuse himself and cry a little more in the bathroom.

People keep coming and coming, some that Sam didn’t even remember. Krissy Chambers, the teenager they had met way back after their Bobby died, stops by to pay her respects. As does Sonny, the man who runs the boy’s home where Dean lived for a couple months when they were kids. He brings the most surprising gift Sam receives that day, Deans junior wrestling championship award, yellowing with age in its frame. Sam stares at the certificate for a long time before gently placing it in his memory box, one of the few possessions he brought out of the bunker.

Eventually too, Eileen arrives and pulls Sam into a gentle embrace, letting him nestle his face into her soft hair. She draws back after a while and they regard each other, not needing to exchange words while still saying what needs to be said.

As the sun starts to set, people stand and give speeches about Dean, remembering funny stories and happy moments spent together. Jody regales with the story about how Dean killed hitler, Garth tells of a case spent hunting a ghost you can only see drunk and Donna talks about fat sucking monsters. Finally, Sam stands to speak. The room, which had a light buzz about it falls silent as he moves to the front of the crowd. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to do this, if he’ll be strong enough but his brother’s words echo in his head, reminding him he is, he will be.

After Sam speaks, he raises his beer in a toast. Almost 100 bottles follow his, raising for his brothers memory. Looking out onto the faces gathered to celebrate the memory of his brother, he realizes that while Dean may be gone, he was right, he hasn’t left. He still exists in Sams heart and in the hearts of the many people who loved him, who he saved, whose lives were changed by knowing Dean Winchester. Sam feels it then, the hole that Dean left in his chest will never be filled, no, it will never be gone, but maybe it won’t always be so big, so gaping.

Later as Sam finally scatters Deans ashes over their mother’s grave, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he can keep living.

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve never written a fic for supernatural before and this is also like, the second fic I have ever written so sorry if it sucks, I just needed to get it out after the finale. I didn’t hate it but it definitely wasn’t perfect and I needed to fill in some gaps I think it had. I couldn’t get the conversation Sam and Dean had at the end of season 11, which is I think the last time they really thought one of them were gonna die, and I realized that there was no way Sam wouldn’t have given Dean the huge funeral he asked for and deserved. Anyways I hope y’all like it and thanks for reading my ramblings.


End file.
